


Mother is Here Now

by meraculas



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Death, F/M, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship, Protective Mother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-17 01:38:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3510350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meraculas/pseuds/meraculas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cersei Lannister is a mother. A mother willing to protect her children from everything, anyone - even if it is themselves - and she will move heaven and earth to keep them safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> An important note: A Song of Ice and Fire and the HBO television series Game of Thrones are not mine and I have no affiliation of any form to either beyond reading or watching them; I praise and admire those that do own them and know that I am nowhere near capable of something of that caliber. But here is my humble character study showing my admiration.
> 
> Cersei is a character that has always fascinated me. I have never seen her as a villain, but always a mother willing to do anything for her children, even if she really shouldn't. So while this chapter doesn't show much mother-child interaction and is fairly short, it definitely explains part of her motivation in the next half.

          Cersei Lannister never knew what possessed her to take Robert Baratheon to her bed when they first met. Perhaps it was how glorious he looked after the battle, or perhaps it was the wine they had both drunk. Either way, from the next morning to the day she died, Cersei would never understand her reasoning. The man was betrothed to another, had started a war that threatened to end an entire linage and way of life and thinking - for what were the Kings of Westeros without the Targaryens.

          When she finally returned to Casterly Rock after the long and arduous journey that began in Kings Landing with Brandon Stark's arrival and the demands for his sister's release; she was shocked to learn that her foolishness with the Baratheon lord had born a consequence. Or rather, would result in a birth.

          She did everything in her power to hide the fact from the servants and her uncle Kevan. She was grateful for her father not having remained once they arrived. Instead Tywin Lannister had travelled on to meet with the other Westerland lords, to speak with and determine the best course of action. The Targaryens had history and standing behind them, tradition, but they no longer had their dragons. While they had all seen firsthand that Robert Baratheon had strength. They had been set upon and he had helped, personally, to save them. That was how she came to be in her current predicament.

          Eventually she was no longer able to hide it. That damned fool of a brother, Tyrion, was the first to learn. He'd found her retching into a potted plant just outside the kitchens - she'd been craving honeyed chicken again. He'd taken one look at her, guessed, and began to laugh. He actually began rolling on the floor in his laughter. She'd never felt a fury like she did in that moment. She'd picked the plant up - it really wasn't that heavy - and dumped its contents on him.

          Oddly Tyrion kept her secret a little longer. She never understood why, perhaps to torture her, but he did. The servants learned next. She'd been visiting the kitchens for food almost constantly and she could no longer hide that she couldn't fit her dresses. Dismissing her ladies maid had only worked in the early stages, but not any longer. The growth of new life in her womb was too obvious now.

          Cersei relished her pregnancy. Marvelled in her expanding belly, and every sensation that came with it. Even the aches, the inability to sleep, and the retching. She'd never thought she would enjoy having children, having to lose control of her body, but she loved it. Loved having to care for this little thing within her, this life that depended on her.

          Then her uncle learned of her pregnancy and wrote her father. She received a letter almost instantly. He was furious and was on his way back.

          He arrived a week before the birth. He allowed her no peace. There was not to be a bastard in the House of Lannister. Ever. He was very clear on that, and certainly not a bastard born of his daughter. But nothing more could be done, at least Cersei thought so.

          The birth was painful, perhaps the only part of having children she disliked. Making the child was fun, carrying the child within her was almost a religious experience for her, but the birth was hell. In the eleven hours she was in labour, Cersei came to the conclusion, that the ultimate torture was childbirth. She vowed during the eighth hour to never have children again. By the tenth she was begging for death.

          But then it was over. The maester placed her perfect little boy in her arms, and Cersei cried tears of pure joy. She'd thought carrying the child inside her was amazing, but holding him in her arms was life affirming.

          He was silent, which worried her, but he was lively. Little pink arms flailing and grabbing hold of her hair, legs kicking out as they had whilst he was inside her. Blue eyes bright and wide, taking her in, and the little tuft of already think black hair was slicked close to his head. He was her baby, her angel, and Cersei vowed to let nothing ever happen to him.

          Her father was an angry storm, she joked to her son after he'd finally let the new mother have peace with her son, that it was as if he were the storm lord, but Tywin was a Lannister. Here us Roar, were their words, and Tywin roared in pure fury at her daughter for her folly, but he never said a bad thing to or about his grandson, despite his anger. No, he called Cersei arrogant, stupid, vain, and any other myriad of things, but never once did he have a bad word directly for the child. About the circumstance, yes, but about the strong, healthy boy himself, no.

          Her uncle Gerrion was the first to offer her kind words about everything. Telling her to not let her father run her and the child's life. Cersei had always adored her father's youngest sibling, and so she named her perfect little baby for him. Gendry.

          But then Storm's End was liberated, Rhaegar killed, and the her golden twin slew the Mad King. The new lord of Winterfell was on his way to collect his sister and return her safe to the new king, when her father finally deemed her worthy to speak to again. She'd not wanted to speak with him though, not after what had happened to Elia's innocent little children. They were guilty of nothing, except perhaps blood, but blood could not be helped. They were innocent, and as a mother Cersei raged and mourned for them, refusing to let anything similar happen to her baby. Elia's children could have been controlled, used to help Robert in time quench any further rebellion and questions over rightful kingship. Wed his first daughter to Aegon, and his son to Rhaenys. Kept the children in his family, made the two into one.

          But her father came, bade her hide her folly. That was the king's son after all. Bastard or not, it was dangerous to have him there. Robert's enemies would try to kill the boy, his allies could try the same. Cersei railed against him. Screamed at her father, even struck him, her nails acting as claws tearing his cheek open as she did. She would never lose her precious baby. Gendry was her life now. If she could not have her silver haired prince, then she was have her raven haired son.

          Eventually her father and uncle Kevan wore her down. Perhaps it was also the letter from her golden twin, her other half, who despite not knowing about her son, begged her to listen and relent to their father's request.

          Finally she did, though. She handed her baby over to her father, who swore on his very wealth and power that he would personally place Gendry in his uncle Stannis's arms.

          Then Lyanna was dead and her father arranged to her to wed Robert. She'd been heart broken by her baby's lose and quietly, as they made their way to Kings Landing for the wedding, asked her father if she could have him back.

          Tywin turned cold eyes on her, "You'll give him other heirs. You've proven yourself capable, and the boy is nothing more than a bastard who is best forgotten and never spoken of."

          Cersei hung her head and agreed. She never spoke of Gendry again, only cried silently for him that night at an inn before she went to sleep. She also promised herself to never think of him again, it would be easier on her broken heart that way.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interesting fact: the last paragraph was the very first thing I wrote for this story. Not a word needed to be changed once everything else was written as well.

          Cersei Lannister in time gave Robert another child. It was not the boy he and court demanded of her, it was a girl. The boy, whom she'd already birthed and let Robert claim, was her brothers and Cersei took joy in that knowledge. Joffrey was Jaime's, but her daughter Myrcella who looked a near copy of her, save her blue eyes was Roberts.

          When Cersei first realized that her daughter was not her brother's she allowed herself, for the first time, to think of the other child she had born that was truly Robert's. A little boy, a perfect baby, with bright blue eyes that never missed anything. He'd be six by now, she silently mused as she rocked Myrcella in her arms looking out over the bay.

          That was all, though, that was all she thought of her baby. Lost to her and never to be seen again. She knew deep in her bones that he was still alive. She'd have felt her soul break along with her already broken heart if something had happened to him.

          After Myrcella she kept finding herself thinking of him, her baby. But she would only think, never could she let herself give voice to the direction of her thoughts, the pain was still so raw. Especially when she held her daughter. That pain was also why she refused to even think his name.

          Robert had broken her further when they'd wed and he'd called her Lyanna during their bedding. She'd hated him from that second on. Holding Myrcella, seeing how beautiful she was and remembering her baby - for even at six now, he would always be her baby - she allowed herself the thought of maybe. Just maybe.

          Then he hit her. Myrcella had been ill and Cersei had been on her way to fetch maester Pycelle when she saw Robert with one of his whore's. Myrcella had been in her arms, screaming with fever and Robert marched over and slapped her clean across the face. Cersei was too terrified for her child to find anger for her husband. She'd clung to her daughter as a life line and run - the first time she ever had outside of a childhood game - to not the maester but her brother. Jaime had soothed her, assured her that Myrcella was safe, though with her fever still in need of the maester.

          A little under a year later, Tommen was born. She'd thanked the seven that Robert was visiting Storm's End and Renly at the time. Even when he returned, four months later, she refused to let Robert hold him.

          With Tommen's birth her children became her sole purpose. She would do anything and everything for them, spoil them, protect them. Even from Robert, especially from Robert.

          A year after Tommen's birth, she finally worked up the courage to speak to Stannis. She knocked quietly on his door, she'd made sure he was alone within his solar when she did. He answered and looked at her as he did everyone, indifferent.

          "Where is my baby?" She pleaded with him quietly. He shut the door in her face. She cried herself to sleep that night.

          Once a month, until the day he fled Kings Landing for good, she would repeat the action. It became a ritual. She'd wait until he was alone, then ask "where is my baby?" He'd close the door in her face, and she'd cry herself to sleep that night. It would take her a month to regain the courage to ask again, but she would, even though she knew the results would be the same.

          She had hope that one day she would win this battle of wills. She would have her baby back, even if it meant tearing Westeros apart. She would have him back.

          She indulged Joffrey, protected him from everything. Silently she admitted on the day that her baby would have celebrated his tenth nameday, that it was to make up for what she lost with him.

          When Stannis fled after Jon Arryn's death, she may have broke further. Locked herself in her room, refused even her golden twin, and cried for the loss of never getting to ask for her baby again. The next morning she emerged, regal as ever with not a hair out of place, and if she began drinking more than before, no one commented.

          Then Tyrion, curse the retched imp that killed their beloved mother, was stolen by Lady Catelyn Stark. Jaime found Lord Stark, but in the ensuring fight was forced to flee the capital. She thought she and family - no her children - would be safe then, especially once she arranged for Robert's death. Everyone was safer with him dead, and with Joffrey on the throne, perhaps they could force Stannis back. And maybe.

          But that was not the way of things.

          Lord Stark had somehow learned the truth of Joffrey and Tommen. As did Stannis. Perhaps Stannis had always suspected, perhaps that was why he refused to answer all those years; so when the time was right he could produce his brother's true son for the world to see. Cersei knew she'd not be able to hide the truth of him then, even if he looked every bit like a Baratheon, that would be her baby. Besides, her father delivered him unto Stannis himself. What more proof was there.

          Stannis never did, though. Her baby never appeared.

          She was truly horrified when Joffrey had Eddard Stark beheaded on the steps of the Great Sept. She thought she'd had him convinced to sent Lord Stark to the wall, or rot the rest of his life in the dungeon. She saw her golden son in a new light that day, but he was her blood, her son, and she loved him, would protect him from everything still. She did everything she could to protect Sansa after her father's death. No need for the girl to be as broken as she was, even if for different reasons.

          Then came the Blackwater. Stannis fought to kill her son, to kill Joffrey. He almost managed to make it into the capital, but her father saved them.

          She'd known that if Stannis won the city, nothing could save her, or her sweet Tommen. At least Myrcella was safe, or as safe as a Lannister could be in the viper's nest of Dorne. But Myrcella had her Baratheon blue eyes to save her. Tommen only had her. She'd been prepared to save herself and Tommen when her father arrived.

          Stannis had already proven that he no longer had her baby, he'd have shown him already, so what point was there if he won. She'd never see him again. Her baby, was what she held when the doors burst open. Then her father appeared and it was Tommen in her arms. Never her baby, never again.

          Her father was trying to convince her of a great many things now that he was back in the capital. How best to silence the critics in regards to Joffrey and Tommen's true parentage. That she must marry again. A great many things and Cersei couldn't find it in herself to listen.

          On that day of the Blackwater attack, she'd been certain she'd held her baby, but she hadn't. She had felt what little there was left of herself break that night.

          They were in her father's solar, just she and him. Tywin was rattling on about something he wanted done. She looked up from her food and said calmly, "Where is my baby?"

          She'd never seen her father struck so silent so quickly. He went pale, ashen almost, and looked all his fifty-seven years then. He gave her a pointedly frustrated look once he regained himself and returned to his food. But she knew.

          "You know, you know where he is." She said, fighting to conceal her joy and surprise.

          "Eat your food, Cersei." He directed her gruffly.

          "Tell me where my baby is!" She shouted, standing angrily from her chair. "Tell me!"

          Tywin, slowly finished chewing, lowered his utensils, and wiped his mouth. "Casterly Rock."

          Cersei fell back into her seat flabbergast. Her baby was at Casterly Rock. "But-" She couldn't put more words behind the question. She was too surprised.

          "I found him in Harrenhal and had him brought to Casterly Rock. He is well, before you embarrass yourself and ask." Tywin said before slowly returning to his meal, waving her away when he saw she wasn't eating as he was.

          She couldn't eat, for the next couple of days she was in too much shock to do much of anything. Her baby had somehow ended up in Harrenhal, but was now safely back at Casterly Rock with her family, with his family. He wasn't safe though. Not as long as she could see for herself, hold him in her arms again, would her baby ever be safe.

          "I want to see him." She finally said giving voice to that deepest desire that she'd held ever since she'd handed him to her father all those many year ago.

          Tyrion looked askance between his father and sister, confused. Tywin looked at her pointedly, angrily for again broaching the subject of her baby. Interrupting him in plans of wedding her and Tyrion off. "No."

          She gripped the wooden desk to control herself, but still ground out between clenched teeth, "I want to see him."

          Tywin looked at her again and realization seemed to come to Tyrion, "No."

          "One week, let me have one week with him, father, and then I'll readily agree to anything you ask of me. Just let me see my baby." She could feel the tears prick the corner of her eyes as she made her demand. Promised to throw her life away, but she couldn't care. She was going to see her baby again.

          They went back and forth some more. Him refusing, her begging. Finally he relented. "One week, then you return and wed Willas Tyrell."

          She thanked her father and silently left the room, before fleeing joyfully to her chambers to pack for her trip. But her brother's question of "is this wise?" was not missed.

          It took a month to reach Casterly Rock, but finally she was home. Passing through the gilded gates, she could practically feel her baby calling out to her. Her father had told her where she could find him before she left. He'd found him as a blacksmith in Harrenhal, a skilled one, and had arranged a position in a smithy.

          She'd waited only two hours before she made her way to the smithy. The first hour she had needed to oversee the unpacking, the second was to calm her nerves and council herself to not scare her baby by wrapping him in a hug and never letting go.

          When she entered, the place was hot, blistering so. She had changed into a fairly simple gown, well simple for the Queen Regent. It was scarlet red with tight sleeves on the arms, she'd known there would be fire in the smithy and didn't wish to risk her gown accidently catching fire. The material was silk, and had golden velvet panels woven into the skirt. Simple but elegant. She wore her hair lose around her neck, an oddity for her and the south, but her baby had loved to play with it when she had him, and she couldn't resist.

          His back was to her when she entered. He was bent over some metal work, pounding away at it with his hammer. Cersei allowed the humorous thought of like father like son, both with hammers in their hands. She could see his dark black hair, just like Robert's. From his turned profile he looked much like Robert had when she first met him, when her baby was conceived. He was strong, solidly built, and nearly all muscle, though this was from hard labour not war.

          He turned hearing the bell above the smithy door jingle, and Cersei felt her breath catch in her throat. He looked just like Robert in the face too, except. Looking closer, through the soot and smoke, while his eyes were blue like Robert and Myrcella's they had her shape, and his nose. He had her nose as well. Also his beard, it was light, not much growth to it, but what was present was light in colour. Cersei hesitated, but in the end she called it faintly golden. Not a polished gold like her hair, but a rough, straight from the mine gold.

          "You're grace," he spoke kindly if a little roughly, bowing in surprise seeing her, "what, can I help you with?"

          She smiled at him, at her baby, and fought the very fibber of her soul at run to him and hold him. "I was hoping you might help me with a gift." She lied carefully. It was hard, finding an excuse for being here, and hiding her joy at seeing him. A handsome grown man, still as strong and healthy as he had been when last she'd seen him.

          "For who, you're grace?" He asked setting his hammer down and coming closer to her.

          She had not thought entirely on a response. Had hoped to not have to give one, but he was observant and inquisitive even as a babe. She should have known better, and she felt the smile thinking that. "My son." Was her only reply.

          "What is it you'd like for his grace?" Her baby asked her, with what she might have called a knowing smile, but it was hard to tell with the dirt he wore like a second skin.

          "Nothing extravagant, perhaps a simple dagger." She managed to finally say, this was a gift for him, her baby, something to protect himself with when she was not around.

          Perhaps, wedding Willas Tyrell would not be so bad. She would be closer to her baby, she might even be able to arrange a smithy position for him in Highgarden. If not, she would still be closer, she would have more freedom to see him. Her perfect baby boy, innocent to everything in the world around him.

          "Of course your grace. When will you need it by?"

          Cersei pulled herself from her rapturous musings, "I'm here for but a week. Before then, please. Money is no object, and I'll pay upon receipt."

          "'course, your grace." He responded before turning back to his prior work.

          She stepped out of the smithy into the bright sun of the day. Her heart mended but a little. She wished she could stay longer, speak with him. But he was busy and if she stayed she might do something she'd regret later. Tomorrow she'd return.

          And she did. He was surprised to see her, saying that he'd barely begun. She waved him off saying that it was lonesome in her chambers and she wished company. He worked in silence and she watched in silence. Her baby may not be like his siblings but he made her proud.

          The next day she managed to get him talking. He told her of his childhood, growing up in Flea Bottom - he had always been so close, it had nearly stopped her heart - and how some lord paid for him to work under Tobho Mott. Cersei silently wondered which lord, likely Stannis, he had taken her baby and seemingly arranged his early childhood.

          He told her how both Lord Arryn and Lord Stark came to speak with him, then died shortly later. How the King's brother had been with Lord Arryn but refused to enter the shop, and Cersei became certain Stannis was behind it all, but why bring Lord Arryn to her baby and refuse to say a word to her? Perhaps he had been planning something with the old man. Fear gripped her heart for her baby's safety for but a moment before she told herself that he was safe and in front of her.

          He told her how the money suddenly went away and he decided to join the Night's Watch. Again she panicked for her baby. Then she heard of how the city guards set upon them, looking for him specifically, killed the black brother escorting them, and how another boy said one of the dead ones was him to protect him. Cersei offered up a silent prayer to the seven to keep the boy that saved her baby safe.

          The guards brought him to Harrenhal and her father found him. Said that his work was too good for the place, and had him sent to Casterly Rock as Tywin Lannisters personal blacksmith. So that was how her father managed it, she would have to thank him when she returned.

          Eventually she had to leave, the servants would be laying supper down for her soon, but Cersei was loathe to go. On an impulse she nearly instantly regretted, she invited him to join her in her solar for the meal.

          He refused at first, but once she'd asked she realized she needed him to accept, and managed to wrangle an acceptance be reminding him she was Queen Regent. She promised him a bath before and a bed after, she wanted her baby close.

          He arrived clean scrubbed at seven for the meal. They talked some more, she told him a little of her childhood. Eventually, as the servants were clearing the table, she found it in herself to ask about his mother. He'd never mentioned her during the day; had said only that she worked in a tavern where some unknown knight met her.

          He was hesitant at first, but then Cersei told him about her own mother. Then he told her. She was blonde, he remembered that. She died when he was young, just shortly before his sixth nameday. Her heart broke for him, he clearly loved this woman that had taken her place, and while that hurt, she still grieved for his lose. He told her all he remembered was her hair and a song.

          She used to sing to him the song 'Two Hearts That Beat As One.'

          Cersei's heart stopped, when he admitted that. That he could still hear her singing it in his dreams. That was not the barmaid mother, that was her. She had sung him that song daily from the moment she had learned of her pregnancy to the day she handed him to her father and lost him. That was her he remembered. Her heart soared and nearly burst through her chest. She could feel tears prick at her eyes and tried to cover it when he noticed.

          She choked out that it was her favourite song, which was true. After that she suggested they retire for the night.

          Later, in the dead of night, as she found herself unable to sleep, knowing he was just down the hall, she crept silently from bed. Carefully opening the door to his chamber, she tiptoed inside and sat in a chair next to him. Silently she watched as he slept. She knew this was a bad idea, as she fought for a hundredth time to not cradle him in her arms, but she needed to. This was her baby, no matter how old he got, he was her first, her most precious, the only innocent left in all this war. She would protect him from everything and everyone. Gendry was her only life line left, and the only thing that could save her from the sins of her other children, she realized as she very carefully brushed his black hair from his sleeping face praying he didn't stir.

          She remained, seated in that most uncomfortable chair until she looked up to stretch her neck and noticed the sky beginning to brighten outside. Just as carefully as she entered she left. She slept for only a couple hours before the servants woke her for the day, and she didn't mind, that little sleep was the best she'd had in sixteen years.

          She ate with her baby in the morning, and bade him join her again for supper that night, promising the room to him for the duration of her stay and even once she left. A promise she'd be sure the servants kept. He agreed with some trepidation.

          It was her second last day before she was to return for the capital when it happened. She'd been visiting him in the smithy when a man burst in with a sword and tried to kill her baby. She'd screamed for him, but he'd skillfully managed to man, but not without being injured. He'd been stabbed in the abdomen and struck in the shoulder. He'd still managed to take up a sword he had completed the day before and take the man down, but he baby was wounded. Someone had deliberately tried to kill him.

          She'd had him brought to the maester, the same one that had helped her birth him. He said her baby would be fine, the wound in his abdomen hadn't done any permanent damage, and his shoulder was merely a scrape. She forced him into the room she now called his, sat next to him until she was certain he slept. Only then did she leave her baby's side.

          A guard met her outside his chamber. Told her the would-be assassin's person had been searched. He carried a letter in the king's own hand to kill the boy. No reason was given, only that he was to be killed. The guard told her she needed to be more careful with her lovers. Cersei feared it was because Joffrey was again trying to do away from his half-siblings, trying to succeed where he nearly had on the King's Road that brought her baby to Harrenhal and back to her.

          She told the guard to hold his tongue. She also arrange for guards to keep watch on her baby, even after she returned to Kings Landing. Someone would make certain her baby was safe. He was innocent in all this, she shouted into her pillow as she prepared for sleep that night.

          She spent the start of the next day packing, and the rest at his side. He'd tried to convince her to leave, but like the other times she reminded him of who she was and he stopped with a smile. He was half asleep after eating their final supper together when he murmured, "You're just like Arya was. Always called me bull headed."

          Cersei stopped stroking his hand in a way to make him fall asleep. Had he mentioned Arya, Ned Stark's missing daughter? He knew where she was? Cersei reminded herself that even if he had, he didn't anymore, he'd been at Casterly Rock for nearly a year now. Besides, it could be a slip of the tongue, she could have heard him wrong, or they met before he left for the wall. Either way, she brushed it aside and watched him sleep.

          She stayed all night, was there when he woke. She made him promise to take time to recover and keep the apartment she had given him. She also pressed the dagger he had made - unknowingly for himself - into his hand, saying he needed it more than Joffrey. He had assumed it was for Joffrey, best remain with that assumption.

          As the servants loaded the wagon with her things, she pulled her uncle Gerion's bastard girl to her and made her promise to keep an eye on her baby and write with updates regularly. Despite Joy being a bastard, Cersei had a soft spot for her because she reminded her of Gerion, and a little of herself. Joy promised with a confused smile and Cersei left.

          Upon returning to Kings Landing she went about her regular life, she protected her children, and agreed to wed Willas Tyrell, she sneered at her brother as he wed Sansa Stark. If a little aghast and repulsed she welcomed Jaime home, glad for his return, though with her heart beginning to mend finally she refused him into her bed.

          But she remembered what her son had tried to do to her baby. Both times. First on the Kings Road and then in his smithy right in front of her. She would never forget, though there might be nothing she could do.

          Unless.

          The time came for Joffrey's wedding. It was to be marvellous, the King was getting married. The whole of Westeros arrived to represent, even Dorne. She would wait for the perfect time to speak with Prince Oberyn about Myrcella, but she refused to let the prince leave without hearing of her daughter's health.

          The wedding ceremony was beautiful. The feast had a little - or a lot, rather - of everything and anything someone could ask for. The entertainment was good, if a little tasteless for some.

          Then it happened. Her son was in trouble, choking, dying. She was at his side instantly, she was his mother and no one dared refuse her. She had given him life. She held him as his eyes dimmed and the light in them painfully drained away, she cried, screamed, this was her son!

          She looked around her, looked at the guests, her other son, her father, Jaime. Her heartbreak was clear, her grief palpable, her madness glaring.

          As a mother who was willing to do anything and everything to protect her children, even from themselves if it came to that, she only felt a little pang of guilt for her own mother's hurt as she pointed her finger at her youngest brother. But it was for her mother, and the justice she deserved, that Cersei Lannister named Tyrion as Joffrey's killer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random writing trivia: Gendry's name was only used five times in this whole story. Four times in chapter one, and once in this one.
> 
> Also, I needed to change Myrcella's father to Robert to give Cersei that motivational kick to find her baby.


End file.
